


Letters.

by impracticallyperfect (whynotfour)



Series: Tom Holland and His Girl [9]
Category: British Actor RPF, tom holland - Fandom
Genre: F/M, Public Sex, basicalky something small, ish, very smutty
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-10
Updated: 2017-08-10
Packaged: 2018-12-13 16:06:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 754
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11763462
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whynotfour/pseuds/impracticallyperfect
Summary: Tom writes a series of letters for their anniversary and stumbles to think of the words to describe sex with his girl.





	Letters.

**Author's Note:**

> This is something so small to tide you over as I have like a hundred ideas I'm flirting between at the minute (Tom in a sex shop anyone?) but here is a semi-sweet smutty thing to help.

The premise had been so simple - a letter each night to lock away until their anniversary. 30 days of love notes sealed in a box to be opened on the next 30 days he was away.

Day sixteen shouldn't be this hard but here Tom is bent over the hotel table scraping pen over paper trying to describe what it is like to /have/ her. 

A tumbler of Whiskey and ice stirs between his fingers, a drink too sophisticated for his pallet that he insists on sipping on regardless. Another quirk she acts so fond of. His shirt is on the bed, pyjama bottoms slung low on his hips as he flips through the library of photos he carries in his wallet. They're more hinderance than help, awakening memories that urge him to change his ticket and book a redeye home to her.

_The snap of their arms around each other at an indie film festival causes his stomach to churn, his eyes on the camera and hers on his lips forever immortalised. He can feel her weight on his chest as she leans into him, searching the screening for her favourite director. Their bodies are packed tight in a small theatre and her head bobs up and down over the crowd from the back row as she shifts herself around impatiently. Tom can smell the perfume that he had tasted on her neck, hear the mumbles that she had exhaled as his hand slowly snaked up her dress and the chastising that had followed when he told her just how good she looked._

__He still couldn't believe that he'd been so bold to try and use his fingers on her in public, frame twisting to cover them as he told her not to make it obvious. Tom could feel her body adjusting to the coldness of his index finger even now as he clenched the glass to keep his fists busy, the way she had bitten of her lip after giving him consent. She had sounded so filthy as she begged for another one just moments later, pushing herself against the friction of his palm when he complied._ _

___She had looked like a fantasy of Tom's falling apart like that; the glow of the screen illuminating her face as he took the darkness as an opportunity to run his thumb against her clit in the same rushed circles that he'd seen her chase her own orgasm with at home. She'd made him feel so dangerous as she bit into the shoulder of his shirt, moaning his name until he had to chase off an onlooker with a glare._ _ _

____It was her idea to return the favour - suggesting they check a critics review as she led him out of the theatre to the bathroom, his fingers barely leaving his mouth as he sucked them clean._ _ _ _

___Tom's lips savour the taste of his memory, drawing his tongue against them as he works away the temptation of touching himself by returning to the pen. Her name is at the top of the hotel stationary, followed by his account of the memory and he scratches out the next lines with deliberate intensity._ _ _

___**I never knew that touching somebody could make me feel so good. I never knew that even the simplest of touches could make me feel so much pleasure.** _ _ _

___He tries not to let his mind to wander - attempting to chase off the memories that come to mind when he pictures her hands gliding over his body._ _ _

___There was the first time she had him lay on the bed, chest to the sheets as she worked her fingers into the knots of his back. The time she caught him in the shower, sliding behind his body to wrap her fist around his as she asked why he'd started without her. First class when she'd asked if he was a member of a certain club, trailing beneath the blanket when Tom had broken into a laugh._ _ _

___Snapshots of a life together that they'd never share._ _ _

___**I never knew that sex could be anything but fucking until I met you.** _ _ _

___The night that something had switched from messing around to serious as her body gave into his touch, telling him just how good he was making her feel when he realised he could listen to her forever. Holding hands and rolling his hips slowly as she rocked back against him._ _ _

___**always thought making love was a cliché until I did it with you for the very first time.** _ _ _

**Author's Note:**

> I'm thinking of writing a piece just sharing messages I can see Tom sending and extracts of these letter so tell me if you'd like that.
> 
> Please message me either here or on Tumblr (I'm still sick so it's the prime time to get requests in!). Hope you liked it x


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